While it Rains
by Keynn
Summary: Ichigo waits for the bus home when a rather short woman arrives.


**I don't own Bleach.**

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**While It Rains.**

_IchiRuki_

Ichigo's bus was running late. Which was not unusual. But still annoying.

School was over for the summer. Well, officially now. After all, he'd still had to work, run by the grocery store and at some point had managed to stub his pinky toe in the time following his final exam, so that was all placed into the same less than appealing category that school fell under.

Now it was summer, and summer kick started with a well cooked meal courtesy of his sister, Yuzu.

Except that his bus was running late.

Like really late. Ichigo sighed, extended his arm to pull back his dress shirt just enough to get a glance at his watch. Quarter after seven. He adjusted his umbrella and glanced at the sky from under it. He was about to just leave the station, considering hailing a cab when a small woman came running to the bus stop. Ichigo glanced sideways at her, and then reevaluated his statement. Small indicated being on the lower side of average. This girl looked like a high school student who'd stopped growing in middle school. She was soaking wet, without an umbrella, and although her direct line of path was to the cover of the bus stop's bench, she found none there. A sigh followed the realization. Ichigo watched as she flopped down on the wet bench anyway. During all of this she managed a type of grace that betrayed her obviously more matured age. Despite himself and his sour mood he couldn't help but chuckle. She looked up and glared at him.

"What's with the laughing fruit head?" She bit. Her voice was deeper than Ichigo expected, still feminine, but with a sexy under husk. It caught him off guard, as well as her rudeness and his smirk fell. And her eyes. Purple eyes. Shining purple eyes, that were big and deep and infinite. Those surprised him, too. Not a teenager's eyes . . . What the hell.

"Fruit head?" He responded lamely, confused almost, except Kurosaki Ichigo didn't get confused. "You're one to talk midget." It was a lame response, he knew, but his hair had always been a touchy subject. He watched in hidden awe as the woman's eyes narrowed to slits. She stood up and Ichigo wandered if his obituary was going to appear in the paper tomorrow. _iLocal university student Kurosaki Ichigo, 21, dies Friday evening after being attacked by four foot asylum escapee./i _Instead she kicked him. Rather hard in the shin. He leapt back in surprise more than pain.

"Bitch!" He yelled, she crossed her arms under her chest (it was a small chest, somehow Ichigo found he liked it more than some of the bigger chests he'd seen in his life) and glared harder.

"You have no right to make such proclamations!" She shouted.

"What proclamation, I was stating the obvious!" He growled back, rubbing his shin, he could tell she was about to say something else so he cut in before she could. "Besides," he said childishly, "you started it." The woman halted. Looked at him, and then a smile crossed her features.

"You started it?" She echoed. "What are you, five?" Her tone went from predatory to playful, not the mocking type just that generally amused kind. The kind Yuzu used when she'd making a joke. Then the woman started laughing, a contagious thing that wrapped around Ichigo so that he was, too.

"It sounded better in my head." Ichigo admitted when they stopped, standing silently in the rain again.

"Everything does." The woman stated, the smile transforming into a smirk. So many emotions so freely running across her face made Ichigo think she must have been a dangerous person in a different situation. He smirked, watching the rain roll across her cheek with interest, then down the column of her neck. It disappeared somewhere past the hem of her sundress. An inappropriate choice of attire given that the forecast had been for rain the entire week.

Ichigo moved to stand next to her, putting the umbrella between them. She sent him a questioning glance which he responded to with a grin, and the two went to not talking.

This is all weird, Ichigo thought. The short woman beside him and he had only talked for a minute, forty-eight seconds of which had consisted of bickering, and without any verbal communication at all they'd gone to sharing his umbrella. Ichigo was not a social person, this was a strange situation.

"Kuchiki Rukia." The woman announced suddenly.

"What?" Ichigo asked, glancing down, she was staring ahead studiously, her arms were crossed again, as if she were thinking.

"My name is Kuchiki Rukia, I work up the street."

"Oh." Ichigo stated. "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo, I go to school at the university." He stated. Rukia turned to him then, smirking.

"I know." She stated arrogantly. "You intern under my brother." She got pleasure out of the confusion, realization and shock that obscured his (as far as she could tell) normal scowl.

The bus drove up at that moment, saving Ichigo from commenting on the fact that he'd seen this woman on several different occasions, none of which had she ever shown any other emotion other than boredom.

"That's your bus isn't it?" She grinned, hitting him lightly on the chest. Ichigo scowled at the bus.

"Yeah." He muttered, glancing back at her. "It isn't yours?" He asked, she shook her head.

"No, mine's the next one."

Ichigo thought briefly, an idea striking him. A clever idea he thought, he smirked.

"I'll trade you then, how about your number for my umbrella?" His smirk was arrogant and determined. A weird combination. Rukia gave him a smirk of her own.

"Deal." She said, pulling a notepad out of her bag, she scribbled quickly on it, and handed it over. Ichigo grinned, giving her his umbrella.

"See you . . . midget."

"Later strawberry." She waved as he stepped on the bus.

As Ichigo sat down he glanced down at the slip, her digits were written on a pink post-it, little rabbits bordering the edges, he couldn't stop from laughing, which earned him so weird glances from other passengers.

"Ichi-nii!" Yuzu cheered, meeting him at the front door of his childhood home. "Oh no! Ichi-nii, you're soaking, where's your umbrella?" She ran out then, towel in hand and pushed him forcefully up the stairs and inside, throwing the towel over his shoulders as she did so. Ichigo chuckled.

"I traded it." He stated, dodging a kick from his father and delivering one of his own.

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_Requested by AmethystSunrise 28 on dA. Quick and unedited, I may come back to it to make it grammatically correct. ^^; Enjoy, reviews are always loved._


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